


Odd

by sekhmetpaws



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Gardener Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 21:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmetpaws/pseuds/sekhmetpaws
Summary: Every now and then we all are going to have a peculiar coworker.Sometimes, it is an accounting girl having an affair with your boss.Or that guy, Bob, with a mysteriously suspicious past.And then, there are the Nanny and the Gardener.





	Odd

**Author's Note:**

> Nanny Ashtoreth is my religion

Nanny Ashtoreth was an odd woman.

She would dress, from head to toes, like a Mary Poppins from The Addams Family.

Nobody, not even the Dowlings, seemed to know her first name and no one in the staff, not even the oldest, had the memory of seeing she eat or without the dark glasses she used all the time, even inside the house.

Mrs. Dowling always said the Nanny probably just had some kind of vision problem that made her eyes sensible to light and forced her to wear them. Stacy, from the cleaning crew, had a much more reasonable theory that Ashtoreth would have made a pact with Satan himself and, as our eyes are the mirror of the soul, she was obliged to hide them away, otherwise, everyone would know they weren’t human anymore.This started as a joke, but the theory was widely accepted considering that, since she had appeared at he family’s door years ago, the woman didn’t appear to have aged a single day.

Besides that, all the employees had the weirdest stories about her. About how she would randomly start to hiss when she was nervous or how all the plants, somehow, started to shake as the Nanny passed. The cook even claimed to have heard the women singing satanic lullabies for the kid. And, Bill, one of the security guards, would swear his cousin said he knew her before she started babysitting, and she was a Dominatrix in Soho, London.

And, of course, the most terrifying of them all: she and the gardener were fucking.

….

Brother Francis was an odd man.

He had that accent, and those clothes, and those teeth.

No one knew exactly the context of “brother”. Maybe it was custom in his religion. Maybe he had been a priest. Maybe he was in a catholic white supremacist cult. The only thing everyone knew is that he was VERY (and annoyingly) religious and appeared to be a very good man. Too good. And too religious. And apparently knew EVERY biblical word by heart. Which probably wasn’t good.

And the strangest of all: he would never work.

The trees and flowers in the Dowling’s residence was growing like never before. Their grass looked like it was the inspiration for that “the neighbor’s grass is always greener” shit and it wasn’t like Brother Francis was doing any effort for doing so. Nobody has ever seen he grab a shovel or get dirt in his clothes and his hands were always perfectly manicured and clean somehow. And every time someone tried to ask him what his secret was, he didn't seem to have a clue about how gardening works.

One time, in the last spring, a single caterpillar had destroyed all of Agatha’s, one of the kitchen ladies, rose bushes, but, the Dowling’s gardens, crowded with bugs, birds and plagues, looked stunning and shinning with life and Brother Francis would happily point and name each creature as “sister slug” or “brother grasshopper”, telling young Warlock how he should love and respect all of them.

…

“Do you think she seats on his face to make him shut up? Because he surely is annoying as fuck.”

“With those teeth? How?”

…

Oh, yes. And all the staff thinks they’re fucking.

Okay. Maybe not all.

There are bets.

But the majority just agrees such freaky couple must have something going on.

So, they’re just trying to find a prove.

…

“So, Ashtoreth…” asked Stacy one time, while the nanny was helping young Warlock to tie his shoelaces before a walk. “Are you married?”

“Widow.” answered, not even looking in her direction. Or maybe she was. The glasses. They were never sure.

And later, in the kitchen.

“I told you. She is single. And so is Brother Francis. I guess. He said something about God.”

“It proves nothing”.

“It proves they are both odd and alone. They match”

“I think she killed the husband. You know. For the pact”

“Stop with that pact bullshit. It’s not true”

“Have you seen her eyes?”

“No”

“So you can’t prove either”

…

She knew it was true. Stacy just needed to catch them.

It was obvious they had a thing.

The gardener was always blushing when she was around. He would give her flowers and work even less (if it was possible) when the nanny and Warlock were playing in the garden, just watching her.

And Ashtoreth would SMILE. She never smiles. Just small ones, without teeth, for Warlock. But with Brother Francis they’re real and huge and happy, and even with the glasses, Stacy could tell she was watching him too.

…

One time, she almost did caught them.

She was cleaning the upstairs and Warlock was in a school trip.

She hasn’t seen Ashtoreth all day, so, she just assumed, as Warlock wasn’t home, she had taken a day off. And then, she heard a moan and a man’s voice. She had just seen Mr. Dowling in his office and Mrs. Dowling had gone shopping with her friends. She smiled.

Just before knocking the door, the nanny opened it.

She was fixing her hair and her skirts and her lipstick was out of the place. She didn’t even blush when she saw her.

“Hello, Miss Harrison”. She would never call Stacy by her first name as everyone else.

“Oh, Hi Ashtoreth! I was going to clean this room… But I can come back later”.And blinked.

The woman’s expression didn’t change. “No. It’s okay. I was looking for something. Go on”.

And she left. Her hills echoing on the floor.

Stacy waited some seconds expecting to see a very flushed Brother Francis come out, but it didn’t happen. She entered the room. Absolutely empty.

She checked under the bed and in the closet and… No. No. The windows were open. She looked down. A very happy Brother Francis was sitting under a tree, feeding some birds.

“Good afternoon Stacy”.He waved.

No. He couldn’t have jumped from the window, could he?

….

“I heard it. I swear!”

“She was watching porn and masturbating. Kinda weird to think about it. But normal I guess”.

“It was not some random porn, I would recognize the voice!”.

“She has an accent kink.”

“Or it was Satan talking to her. She was doing some sexual ritual”

“Guys! Take it serious!”

“I am taking it serious. I really believe in the pact thing”.

“It’s not our fault you’re telling such an absurd gossip, Stacy”

“Yeah, Stacy. And if you think it means you win the bet you are wrong”.

….

Stacy would go completely crazy if she don’t find some explanation or some clue about that relationship soon. And now, she couldn't even be anxious alone since the rest of the staff was mocking her.

Of course, maybe they have a thing. But Brother Francis jumping out of the window with that short legs? That’s a whole new kind of craziness Stacy.

But she knew she was right. And she would prove it. Someday.

…

And that day came.

Stacy and Agatha were talking in one of the guest rooms. In the next day, Mrs. Dowling would throw a garden party and a lot of the workers that had directly related tasks or stayed past the usual and lived away stayed the night. It was really late and they were gossiping about one of the boys that would serve as waiter and both of them thought he was cute.

And then they heard a noise.

“Stacy, what the fuck? Why are you going?”

“Investigate”

“Don’t you watch horror movies? This is how you die!” And they heard it again, louder. “Well, it seems more like a porn, but is not our business anyway. Stacy!”.

“It’s Ashtoreth!”

“You recognize the way she moans now? You’re too obsessed.”

“Come on!”

She said, dragging her friends through the corridors with her.

“Stacy!”

“Shhh! It’s coming from the kitchen!”

And then they saw her, both of the girls silently throwing themselves in the floor, trying to hide behind a huge decorative vase. They peeked. They saw Nanny Ashtoreth. They could only see above her waist from where they were standing.

The women didn’t seen to see them. Actually, she didn’t seem to be doing anything special, her back on the counter, a whine glass in her hand. But she was SMILING. WIDE. Not that kind of smile she gives to Warlock. A malicious one. Almost evil. And she looked in the direction the girls were hiding and for a second, they could imagine, if it was possible someone have golden eyes, hers sparkled behind the dark lenses, as she moaned again.

Agatha choked.

And then her smile was gone. She looked down, unhappy and pulled her skirts up and a very flushed Brother Francis emerged. He said something about going somewhere else, but the girls didn't have time to listen as Agatha dragged Stacy back to the guest room.

She had a lot o f question and maybe she didn’t want the answers. But Stacy didn’t have any.

She had a victory cry.

-Pay bitch!


End file.
